


So Cliché

by PeneighDzredfohl



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Cliche, F/M, Rouch draft, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, WIP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:07:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22663744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeneighDzredfohl/pseuds/PeneighDzredfohl
Summary: Fem!Thorin and Bilbo meet in the greengrocers...Things get really cliché  after that
Relationships: Fem!Thorin/ Bilbo
Kudos: 3





	So Cliché

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rough draft WIP that is mostly dialog, but sets the stage for fleshing out.
> 
> Ruto did a drawing of Fem!Thorin and Bilbo and the story immediately started in my head. I was helpless LOL  
> Thorin's name is still pronounced Thorin, just spelled Thorynne.  
> With the whole health hiatus debacle, this has been sitting all by its lonesome in my files. But i do have a cute pinboard on Pinterest for it.
> 
> Check it out if you'd like: https://www.pinterest.com/khrystja/so-clich%C3%A9-femthorinxbilbo-thorynne-wip/

They were both distracted when they grabbed for the last head of romaine lettuce at the same time.

“Excuse me. I'm so sorry I was so focused I didn’t see you.”

“Not a bother at my dear lady.”

Both look up at each other.

“Meeting like this seems rather cliché, doesn't it sir?”

“A bit," He replied, totally tongue-tied at this point.

"Would be even more cliché if I invited you over for dinner with a Caesar salad, homemade dressing, and croutons that are homemade as well.” Thorynne nearly swallowed her tongue, had she really just said that?!

Bilbo was hoping he wasn't coming on as some creepy freak in the grocery, but she was such a handsome woman, she'd quite taken his breath away! Even her warm, rich voice, went straight to his...heart. If he wasn't wrong about what he was reading between the line, she was as game as he was. Only one way to find out, ask!

“I could amp up the cliché and bring food of my own, like say, chicken and dessert.” Bilbo quickly added as well.

The lovely woman was still looking at him, with wide blue-gray eyes she fluttered her very long, very thick, very dark, eyelashes at him.

“I’ll top that with veggies and homemade garlic knots.” Thorynne felt like she was in a dream. This kind of thing only happened in dreams, or in predictable chic flicks. The eyelash flutter had felt a bit over the top after she had done it, but the gentleman was looking at her a bit like a deer in the headlights. "Erm, cat got your tongue?" was all she could think to say...and that was indeed cliché.

When he seemed to regain his senses he puffed his chest out a bit replying with, “I’ll see your garlic knots and add a light-bodied Pinot Grigio with dinner, along with a robust and rich Cabernet Sauvignon to go with my famous blackberry pie.”

“You win! Blackberry is my kryptonite! And famous as well, I bet it will be splendid.” Thorynne had never really flirted in her life. Was she laying it on too thick? Coming off a bit like a derp? Her nerves were starting to get the better of as she put on a demure front.

“Well, only famous at family picnics,” Bilbo laughed, “If I show up without at least four, I might as well go back home. But, all's fair in love and war. With my family it is usually war; you my fair lady, could convince me to kiss and make up with them.” 

Thorynne giggled at that. She felt like there was something more she needed to ask, oh but her head was in the clouds as she gazed into the depths of his merry blue eyes.

“Does six sound like a good time to meet?” She asked in a throaty whisper.

“To be quite honest, that sounds perfect. I shall be there with bells on, my dear lady. * _A little more cliché_ *,” Bilbo whispered back softly, making her grin even wider showing off a set of perfectly white teeth. (Good oral hygiene is essential you know) 

“May I see your phone, so I can give you my information?” Her palms were sweaty, how disgusting she worried. He'll think I'm some kind of kook with sweaty palms...better than hairy ones, she supposed.

“Yes, of course! Now wouldn’t it be kind of wonky if I cooked a meal and didn't know where to bring it?” Bilbo felt the sweat trickle down his sides from under his arms. Oh how he hated the dreaded sweaty nerves he always got. Only now it was so much worse.

“I would send a hunting party for you.” Thorynne was feeling a bit breathless by this time. He really was maybe, possibly, hopefully not going to just be kind to her and do all this flirting and then stand her up, but actually, truly, willingly come to her home for dinner!

“Well, then, I feel safe enough.”

“Here you go.” Thorynne handed him the sweaty phone and cringed.

“Thank you, I’ll send mine back. Do you like flowers?” Bilbo queried.

“Uhm, yes, and no.” She groaned in her head. This was one of her 'annoying' quirks other had grumbled about her having.

Bilbo simply looked at her curiously.

“I do love flowers; my garden is full of them. But picked flowers never last long and look so sad when they wilt.”

“A flower garden, you say?” Bilbo's eyes had lit up like candles when he heard that.

“Yes, mostly wildflowers, but I do have a few roses and some perennials. I have a bit of a green thumb and am a dab hand at cooking so I Like My own herbs."

“Then I know the perfect gift to bring.” Bilbo practically crowed in response.

“You really don’t ha…”

“I know, I know, I know," He waved dismissively, "but, I would love to see your face when I give them to you." He blushed hard as he then said, "It would mean the world to me.”

“Then how can I say no?”

“You can’t.”

They both laughed.

“Well, we have a dinner to prepare and a few hours to do it in. I shall see you promptly at six then. OH! Uhm, what's your name my dear lady?”

She laughed hard with that, “That would help a tad, it's on my phone info, but my name is Thorynne, with a ‘ynne’.”

He smiled, “It is a name that suits your loveliness perfectly. I am Bilbo Baggins…with two B’s,” he laughed, making her laugh too.

He loved her voice. It was warm, rich, and a smooth, gentle contralto. Women with high pitched voices hurt his ears and got on his nerves; like a certain aunt that never shut up. He wondered if Thorynne sang.

They parted ways, with a few glances back and forth.

~~*~~

Bilbo was both nervous and excited. He had never done anything so spontaneous in his life! Ok, when he was younger and less concerned with respectability, he did many spontaneous things. His father said it was from his mother; her Took-ish blood was from a wild bunch.

As he grew and found his place in the community, he realized spontaneity often led to headaches. So, he became more and more set in his ways. He wasn't all that old, 50 was a perfect age. Old enough to know better and young enough to not care…too much…but enough.

The pie would be first, he thought, as he put the wine in the fridge to chill, the chicken would only take 20 minutes to cook, and the sauce was simple yet elegant.

Next, he headed out to the garden for his special surprise gift. His mother, if she were alive, would approve wholeheartedly and he felt she would like Thorynne as well. There was just something about her, from that first touch and looking in her blue eyes (such naturally thick lashes as well) he thought of his favorite flower.

He knelt in front of the forget-me-nots, readying a pot for transplanting. Whether Thorynne had them in her garden already or not, Bilbo wanted the sentiment to be felt. He did not wish Thorynne to forget him.

He chuckled as the thought of clichés passed his mind. Whatever had started at the grocers, was indeed love at first sight.

He knew nothing about her, but he loved her already. Insta love the kids called it today. Whatever this love was called, he had high hopes it would become more, and blossom into something special and then maybe...fingers crossed!

~~*~~

Thorynne was a nervous wreck, the whole drive home she found the mantra "I can't believe I did that,” beyond cliché and slightly soothing. But she had done it and was proud of herself. She had seen the gorgeous curly redhead several times at the grocer's, in the bookstore, and the garden center. So, it seemed like they had some things in common.

She had honestly not been paying attention when she grabbed for the lettuce, but nearly stopped breathing once she looked up from apologizing to the hand on the lettuce. The hand belonged to the face she saw in her dreams. It was sometimes serious, usually quick to smile, and oh so handsome. Bilbo's amber-brown eyes and a smattering of freckles across his cheeks and nose were so adorable. His face was soft and looked youthful, though she knew he was only a bit younger than her 54 years.

The garlic knots had been made this morning, only needing to be left to rise and then baked and brushed with the garlic butter. The dressing would have to wait until Bilbo got there or it would possibly break, and that would be so embarrassing. The croutons were so simple, and the other ingredients for the salad had already been prepped. It was when she realized that morning, that the star of the show had wilted,; she’d need another head.

She chuckled as she set things in her refrigerator. All this because she was craving a Caesar salad for dinner!

Again cliché, life could change on a dime.

~~*~~

The evening was too perfect - with the gentle warmth, a soft breeze, and the sun now behind the trees - to eat indoors. She quickly set up the outdoor table and the fairy lights around the gazebo…hmmm, too over the top? No, she loved them, and if Bilbo found them too over the top, it might lead to finding out if other things were not compatible.

She put the electric tea lights in the small candelabra under the umbrella. A fresh spring green linen tablecloth with coordinating napkins and napkin rings that her mother had given her; a gift to her mother from her father, so they had special meaning, and on a night like tonight, maybe a little luck.

~~*~~

~~Describe how lovely she looks in her dress and how dashing he is in his vest and bow tie.~~

~~He hands her the forget-me-nots and she tears up.Fix it to be more verbose)~~

“These were my mother’s favorites. My father bought them every year for their anniversary, because he could, ‘forget her not’.

Thank you, Bilbo. I don’t think I could ever forget you.”

“I chose well then. I felt my own mother’s hand in helping me choose. You see they were her most favorite flowers as well. They reminded me of your eyes Thorynne, the same bright hue, and they also stand for hope and young love.”

“Come in, I want to put them on the table out back so we can both enjoy them, I will plant them in section of my garden I dedicated to my parents.”

“It must be special to be so lovingly tended to.”

“Would you like to stop by to see it tomorrow.”

“I most certainly would, it would be a true honor for me.”

“Well I have a salad to make…”

“And if I may use your hob to warm the chicken and make the sauce.”

“Please, what's mine is yours.”

“Bilbo's ears turned red at such a sweet sentiment.”

When all was set and ready, they sat down. The first soft moans made them both cover their mouths as they giggled.

“Bilbo this is divine! I want to eat this once a week,” she laughed.

“I do believe if that is an invitation I will sincerely take you up on it. Although it would be easier to prepare here.”

“You are more than welcome to wow me with your culinary skills any time you wish.

“This is real dressing, with egg?” 

“Indeed, I get my eggs from my neighbor whose chickens are his feathered babies, so I know they would not make us sick. Would you care for some soft music?”

“Yes, please, and I will fetch my pie. Do you like it warm?”

“Of course, as any true pie connoisseur knows, warm berry pies are the only way to go. I also have some salted caramel vanilla gelato if you’d like.”

“I’ve never tried that.”

“I think you’ll like it. A small scoop is not enough to overpower the sweetness of the berries and the salty caramel seems to make the berries that much richer and sweeter.”

“Tell me no more! I will find the gelato as the pie is warming and we shall indulge ourselves, my dear.”

Brings pie out with a flourish and both dive in. Thorynne cannot stop complimenting him.

He says, it is a secret recipe but if you want to know, I believe the splash of brandy I add is what makes it so good!

She says boozy food is always better and they both laugh.

~~*~~

“So, what do you do for a living Thorynne?” 

“Um, you might find it odd, but I am a master metalsmith. I take custom orders and make a variety of things.”

“Like in a forge as a blacksmith would?” 

“Similar in a way. My forge is more modern and the tools I use as well. I have worked in traditional forges with original tools that other masters have made. I thoroughly enjoyed the experience, but it was backbreaking to keep an old forge like that at the proper temperature. Between the wood and the bellows, it is a major workout.”

“What do you make?”

“Well, mostly I make wrought iron garden decorations like arches and gates, or flower holders and shepherds hooks.

But I love when I get special orders for things like broad swords or swords in general. The folk who ask for them are willing to pay for my gift at crafting authentic, beautiful swords. I'd say 90% are for home décor, and a few might be for serious cosplay or LARPing.

I will do large quantities of less ornate and unadorned swords for casual cosplayers and LARPers. You most likely have seen my work and not known it at the Renn Fest every summer.

I’m always interested in trying something new though, so I have side projects of my own to keep me busy.”

“I feel I lead a rather dull life compared to that.”

“How so?” 

“I am just a writer of books. I love to write high fantasy adventures: knights, elves, dwarves, fair maidens, that sort of thing. Plus, you must have dragons. No story worth telling is any good without a dragon; in my opinion, at any rate. I'm working on series right now about a band of adventurers trying to save their kingdom from a dragon. I'm nearly done with the series; I've just hit a bit of a roadblock you might say.”

"Roadblock? Don’t you mean writer’s block?”

"No, you see, I usually, well, um, kill off a few characters, even main ones. But this time, I simply can’t get my characters to go along with it.”

“Your... characters?”

“Oh, it’s a writers thing really. I would think I was crazy myself if I had not been to enough conventions and heard other writers say the same. Their characters tell them what to write.

And mine in this book, refuse to let me kill off the three main characters. It would completely pull the heartstrings of my readers if I did. But the longer I listen to them, the more I want this to have a happy ending.”

“Bilbo, you must give them a happy ending. I’m not sorry to be one of those readers who don't like sad endings. I want to read a book, close the cover after the last page and sigh with happiness. I want to cry with love and joy. I’m just a big mush bucket when it comes to that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Although it's a WIP what do you think so far?


End file.
